It's Me and It's You
by BeneathTheUmbrella
Summary: So how, exactly, did the Pooh Bear nickname come to be?


_So, I've had this story in my mind for a while now. I'd been wanting to come up with a cute backstory for the Pooh Bear nickname, but couldn't come up with anything solid. I had a vague idea a few months back, but I wasn't inspired. And then today, boom, a new idea came to me. So here it is. It's simply silly and, naturally, fluffy as hell; hope you all enjoy!_

* * *

Ted stepped into Tracy's shower and turned on the water, letting it pour down onto his head. He watched the chunky red gazpacho fall from his hair, plop onto the porcelain at his feet, and disappear down the drain.

It was mid-July, and a particularly hot week in New York City. He and Tracy both preferred staying at her place for dinner that Sunday evening, where a box fan was keeping the apartment nice and cool, rather than venturing out into the humid, muggy heat for food.

Wanting to use as little heat as possible in the kitchen, they decided to go raw with their meal that night. So after quickly stopping by the farmers' market for their ingredients, they made it back and got to cooking.

Tracy got busy putting together a fresh three-bean salad, whereas Ted started the process of whipping up a cold watermelon soup.

He loved cooking with her. They stood next to one another at her kitchen counter, each dicing and chopping away on their respective cutting boards, laughing at stupid jokes, and feeding one another bits of veggies as they worked. Ted had long dreamed of this, of having someone to share in life's quieter moments like making dinner, a small instance of simple domesticity. They'd only been seeing each other for about six weeks now, but Ted could already picture a lifetime of whipping up meals with Tracy.

Ted diced the watermelon, cucumber, tomatoes and red pepper, his mouth already watering. He could practically already taste the sweet and savoury concoction, sprinkled with some salty feta cheese on top. He continued with the fresh basil and a few other herbs, dumping the lot into the blender, following those up with some olive oil and red wine vinegar, and then some seasoning.

For her part, Tracy was humming some pop tune and moving her hips while assembling her salad, which was distracting to Ted. He thus absently, mindlessly focused on his task, not realizing he had put too much of the soup mix into the blender. And when he hit the 'pulse' button, failing to hold down the lid with his hand, the contents of the blender exploded, the lid flying off along with the ingredients, splattering on the cabinets, counter, floor... and all over Ted.

His hair, face, arms and clothes were coated in barely-crushed tomato and watermelon. Tracy was, for the most part, clean and dry, laughing hysterically as she reacted quickly, cowering behind Ted, protecting herself from the spray.

"Aww-www," she cooed through fits of laughter, standing up to look at him, grabbing a kitchen towel to tenderly wipe his cheeks. "Well, there goes dinner."

At least Tracy had a sense of humor about the fact that he made a mess of her kitchen and ruined dinner, he thought. She just pushed him in the direction of her bathroom, comforting him over his destroyed soup, suggesting they order a pizza instead.

So there Ted was, washing his hair with Tracy's (what looked like very expensive) shampoo and soaping up with her avocado body wash. He stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, drying himself off. He then looked down at the floor where he had tossed his dirty clothes, but they were gone. Tracy must've snuck in and taken them.

"Trace?" he called out, opening the door a crack. She was in the kitchen cleaning gazpacho from off the cabinets.

"Yeah, babe?"

"Where are my clothes?" he asked.

She stopped what she was doing and walked over towards him. "They were covered in soup, silly," she said matter-of-factly. "I took them down to the laundry room to wash."

Ted's face fell. "Oh. My boxers were clean, though. I was hoping to wear them..."

"Crap," Tracy muttered, looking up at him apologetically. "Sorry. I just grabbed everything."

"S'ok," he assured her. "But... do you have anything I could borrow? A large t-shirt, maybe?"

"Yeah," she said with a nod of her head, disappearing from view. She returned a minute later, a red t-shirt in her hands. "It's the largest shirt I have."

He'd seen her wearing if before, hanging loosely and coming halfway down her thighs. (And he _definitely_ recalled taking said shirt _off_ her after seeing her in it and nothing else.)

Ted only hoped it would be enough coverage for _him_.

"Thanks," he said as she handed it over, giving him a kiss through the slightly open door before going back into the kitchen.

Ted squeezed himself into the t-shirt and shook his head. It didn't fit. It clearly didn't help that he was significantly heavier and taller than his 5'2" girlfriend. While it looked huge on Tracy, it was way too tight on Ted, hugging his sides and barely covering his belly. He tried to pull it down to shield his junk, stretching the fabric as much as possible, to no avail.

He looked ridiculous.

"Um, babe?" he began, opening the door and walking into the living room.

Tracy looked up from the floor she was mopping, eyes widening at his naked lower half. She gave him a once-over in that too-tight t-shirt before bursting with laughter.

"You look like Winnie the Pooh!" she howled, dropping the mop from her hands. "But, you know, a lot less smooth in the front."

"Ha. Ha," he responded dryly, glad she could be amused at his expense, but he still felt silly. And cold. "Do you have _anything_ else I could wear? Maybe Lewis left behind a pair of sweatpants or something?"

Tracy wiped a tear from her eye, letting out a few remaining giggles before composing herself. "You'd _seriously_ be open to wearing my ex-boyfriend's clothes?" she asked with a knowing arch of her eyebrow.

She was right. It'd be awkward as hell. But Ted was desperate—he needed pants.

"Anyway," Tracy continued, shrugging her shoulders. "I never really let Lewis keep many clothes here. Aside from some soap and shaving cream, and maybe a couple of gadgets, all he really had here was a leather jacket and occasionally a pair of sneakers."

Ted just nodded his head in understanding at her words. He knew that, after Max, it was really hard for Tracy to let someone new, not only into her life, but in her home. It was a space she once shared with Max for a good three years, so bringing in a new man was an adjustment. Sure, she had done it—allowed Lewis to enter her world and her bed—but clearly, a few walls had still remained. Even after dating the guy for a year.

As for Ted, he never wanted to impose, didn't want to push Tracy into something she probably wasn't ready for. He still lived out of a bag when he spent the night at her place. (And he kind of wish he had his overnight bag with him right then, but he was staying at his apartment that night given his 9 a.m. dentist appointment the next morning just down the street from his place.) All he kept there was a toothbrush, sitting comfortably next to hers on her bathroom sink. It was a small step, but he knew he'd hopefully bring in more of his stuff to her place when the time came. He didn't know if it'd be a gradual thing or a conversation they'd need to have soon, but he was letting her call the shots. All Ted could do was be there with her, slowly helping Tracy to break down her walls, bit by bit.

Besides, for the time being, he was content. Because Ted already felt at-home in Tracy's apartment, and he knew she loved having him there, too. And that was more than enough.

"Ok," he said now, giving her a warm smile. "I guess I'll just wrap a towel around my waist until my clothes are washed and dry. Gimme a minute, and then we'll finish cleaning up that mess."

He turned to walk away, but he felt Tracy's hand grab at his, pulling him back to face her. She was looking up at him—nervously, hesitantly—but had a look of determination in her eyes. Ted swallowed hard, feeling that she was about to say something important, probably even relationship-altering.

"You know," she began slowly, keeping her tone casual, but he could hear the wobble in her voice. "As much as I enjoy having you walk around my place without any pants on... maybe it's time you started to keep some stuff here?"

Ted's breath caught in his throat, unable to let out a word as she spoke. He just stood there, dumbly, inwardly telling himself to say or do something.

His silence definitely went noticed by Tracy. "I mean, if you keep on making messes in my kitchen like this," she continued shyly, letting out a nervous laugh. "You're clearly going to need to have extra set of clothes on-hand, so—"

Ted didn't let Tracy finish. He just grabbed her by the waist and kissed her, there's he thought to do right then, pulling her body close to his. This was huge. Yes, for them, but especially for her. And he was so proud and overjoyed, he needed her to know that. He needed to show her.

He embraced her passionately, rocking her body along with his, his hands gently running up and down her back.

After a few moments, he pulled back to catch his breath, pressing his forehead to hers. "I think... that is an awesome idea," he said finally, giving her an encouraging smile.

Tracy smiled back, happy, and breathed out a sigh of relief. She kissed him again, confidently now, a slow peck on his lips.

"C'mon, Pooh Bear," she said teasingly, pulling away and squeezing his hand. "I can think of something we could do that doesn't require any pants. It'll help us kill time until your clothes are clean. What do you say?"

Ted chuckled. "So you want me to dip my paw into your honey pot, huh?" he said coyly as she pulled him towards her bedroom. They both paused, Tracy's eyes widening in amusement, Ted's shutting in embarrassment.

 _"_ Ok, that was a _horrible_ sex euphemism," Ted admitted, opening his eyes to look back at her, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I'll do better next time, I swear."

Tracy just laughed. "Silly old bear," she said lovingly. But she then—suddenly—gave him a deep, penetrative look. Her voice also quickly changed, dipping lower, more throaty and saucy. The index finger of one hand found itself on his chest, slowly traversing all the way down to where cotton eventually met skin. "I'm going to climb you like a honey tree."

Ted just gulped at her words, and was immediately _very_ happy that he wasn't wearing any pants. "I gotta say," he panted out, briskly ushering her into her room. "That was _way_ better than mine. A.A. Milne would be proud."

 _END_


End file.
